Chapter Four: The Three of Cups, Upright - A fortunate end to a valued project or venture. A card of abundant trust and harmony. Possibly a celebration.
"Shepard! Up for another?" James held up a can of beer.
She shook her head, content with the beer currently in her hands. For once, the Alliance had done something right. Instead of ushering her crew into small cramped rooms and starting the debriefing process right away, they allowed her crew to gather in what used to be an outdoor picnic area. Shepard pulled as many strings as she could and Hackett himself showed up at the beginning of the party - thankfully only staying for a few minutes - and towed in six cases of beer. Alcohol was scarce, only to be served at diplomatic functions, but the Alliance knew if anyone deserved a treat after what they had been through, it was her crew.
Food was a different matter. The arrival of the Normandy meant an additional fifty-four mouths for the Alliance to feed on a daily basis. So instead of the feast they deserved, her crew had to be content with the best MRE's that could be offered. But considering they'd only been eating ration bars for the past month, most saw the MRE's as a treat.
From her vantage point on the picnic table, Shepard could see the ocean and feel the breeze coming off the waves. An ocean view was one she was used to. Like James, she grew up on the Pacific. One of her favorite things to do as a teenager was go the Santa Monica Pier. She'd walk the length of the beach, offering to walk people's dogs or watch their kids for credits. And by the end of the day, she'd have a tan and a handful of chits in her pocket.
Funny, she hadn't thought of that in years. She wondered if the pier was still there, or if the Reapers had gotten to it like so many other places. The Egyptian Pyramids. The Cristo Redentor. The Taj Mahal. All blasted to dust by the Reapers.
Some day humanity would have to build new wonders.
"Skipper."
Shepard looked up to see Ashley standing in front of her. "Lieutenant Commander Williams," Shepard said with a grin. She patted the space next to her. "Sit your ass down and talk to me."
There was a strange sense of nostalgia seeing Ashley in front of her, wearing regular BDU's instead of the casual uniform she had preferred. Her hair was even up in a bun. Shepard laughed. She could close her eyes and almost picture Wrex standing around, and Garrus fixing the Mako across the way. "Yes, ma'am," Ashley said with a mock salute. She climbed up on the picnic table next to Shepard.
"You did good, Ash," Shepard said softly.
Ashley smiled sadly at the praise. "I didn't want to leave you," she said, shaking her head.
Shepard had only heard bits and pieces from various crew members about what happened to the Normandy after the Crucible fired. For now, she was content to listen to what the crew was willing to tell her. But once they all were back and working again? Shepard wanted answers. She needed to know exactly why they were gone for four months.
Bumping Ashley's shoulder with her own, Shepard said, "You did what you needed to do to keep the crew safe. You know if I had to choose between them or me I wouldn't hesitate."
Ashley nodded. "I know. That's why I was able to look at myself in the mirror." She leaned back on her hands. "I had no idea how integrated the Normandy's computers were tied into EDI and the AI core. It took three weeks just to get the damn on-board computers working again. We actually had to go outside and look at the stars to figure out just were the hell we were. I'm just a soldier, Skipper. I can't tell you how lost I felt, knowing I couldn't do a damn thing to help Tali and the engineers."
"We all thought EDI was invincible," Shepard said, trying to keep the wistfulness out of her voice.
It had been the shock of seeing EDI's unresponsive platform along with Admiral Anderson's name on the memorial wall. That's what she told herself. She hadn't had a vision in weeks, not since arriving back at her prefab after Victus told her Garrus would be declared dead by the Hierarchy. Then she had opened the door to her prefab and found Shiala sitting on her couch.
At first Shepard hadn't recognized the asari; she was tinted blue, not green, like the last time they saw each other, on Illium. Shepard had tried talking to the vision, her mind racing, wondering if this was it, if she had finally slipped into indoctrination at last. Hand on the holster of her pistol, she'd promised herself if the vision spoke and anything vaguely sounding like instructions came out of her mouth, Shepard wouldn't hesitate.
She'd find the courage to pull the trigger.
But Shiala - like the small Prothean child Shepard had seen weeks before her - didn't speak or make any sign she realized Shepard was even there. And after a few minutes, Shiala was gone. Shepard had gone to the couch, placing her hands on the seat, trying to feel warmth on the cushions or any type of evidence. Of course there had been none.
Shiala had written to Shepard once during the war, mentioning she and the other colonists were planning on leaving Feros to fight. Shepard had wondered if it would be better or worse to learn of Shiala's fate in the war. After some deliberation, Shepard decided she needed to know. She needed facts.
The Alliance databases told her that Shiala and all of the Feros colonists had been killed two weeks before the battle on Earth.
PTSD manifested itself in strange ways. She wouldn't be the first soldier to suffer, nor the last. If any soldier under her command spoke of visions, she knew what her advice would be: go talk to the therapists. That's what they were there for. Yet she hesitated to take her own advice.
She still remembered the rounds of mandated therapy she'd endured after Akuze. By the end she wanted to scream. Yes, she was gutted that so many people died while she lived. Yes, she felt responsible at times. But in the end, she knew the attack wasn't her fault. At the time, she blamed the thresher maw. Now at least she could blame Cerberus…
There was so much work to be done. Confessing to these visions now… They wouldn't take chances with someone of her clearance level. She'd be classified as Cat-6 faster than she could blink. And maybe it wasn't fair for her to take those chances herself. She could talk to Garrus, once he was stronger. She'd certainly get a fair and honest opinion from him.
"Everything okay over here?" James asked, walking over to them. "Things got all quiet."
"We're fine, Vega," Ashley said. "Be a gentleman and go get me another drink."
James grabbed Ashley's hand. Bringing her hand up to his lips, he kissed it gently. "Anything for my lady," he said before jogging off.
Ashley leaned forward and covering her face with her hands. "Shoot me now."
"Ashley Williams," Shepard said, drawing out each syllable. She could feel the silly grin on her face. "Are you telling me your one-night stand with Mister Vega has developed into something more?"
"Maybe?" Ashley said, a sheepish grin on her face. She turned her head and looked at Shepard. "I don't know what'll happen now that we're back on Earth. Neither one of us is really comfortable with the idea of breaking regs. Or being like you and Garrus."
Shepard raised an eyebrow, wondering how much Ashley had to drink to bring forth such honesty. "What do you mean, 'like me and Garrus?'" she asked, hoping there was no venom in her tone.
"I didn't mean it like that, Skipper," Ashley said. She brought both feet up onto the picnic table and wrapped her arms around her knees. "Look, the night before we held the memorial for you, Anderson and EDI? We decided to have a party and we finished off every single drop of booze on the ship."
"I keep my ship well-stocked, Williams, that must have been a hell of a party," Shepard said with a low whistle.
"We were all so hung-over during the actual memorial, but that's not the point," Ashley said. "Garrus got drunk. Really drunk. Like wanting to talk about feelings drunk."
"Do I want to know?" Shepard asked, trusting Williams to be honest with her.
"Eh, Cortez convinced him to do drunken shuttle simulations with him before Garrus said anything too horrible," Ashley said with a smile. "But one thing he did say that you two had been together for sixteen months, and for ten of those months, you guys were apart."
Shepard nodded. "That's true." She didn't add that if she had her way, they would never be separated like that again.
"I don't know if I want a long distance relationship." Ashley sighed. "The Reapers are gone, Skipper. I don't think my place is on the Normandy any more."
Shepard knew this conversation would happen at some point, but she didn't expect it to be so soon. Ashley was meant for more than sitting around the observation deck, waiting for those far too few moments when she would go on a mission, or when they'd sit together and Shepard would discuss the finer points of command. Once Shepard had Alliance clearance again, she had looked into Ashley's service record for the previous two years. She had done damn good work. And Shepard was pleased with Ashley's leadership abilities for some of the smash and grab missions she led. "And you're a Spectre."
"And I'm a Spectre," Ashley agreed. "But for now… he's a good man."
"That he is," Shepard agreed. Leaning back on her hands, Shepard added, "Damn. You owe me big time, Williams."
"I owe you?" Ashley asked, sitting up. She crossed her arms over her chest, looking like she was trying not to smile. "How so?"
"If not for my subtle encouragement the night of the party, you might never have hooked up," Shepard said smugly. "That, and you had sex in my guest bedroom before Garrus and I had a chance to. You owe me."
"You and Garrus had a perfectly good bed of your own, Skipper," Ashley said, not trying to fight smiling any longer.
"Yes, we did," Shepard said, letting her mind linger a bit. She and Garrus tried to christen every available surface of that apartment during their shore leave. Even with the war raging, that had been one of the happiest weeks of her life. Spending so much time with her crew, the night in the casino with Garrus, the party… She wondered if the apartment was still standing or if it had been turned into dust.
No one quite knew what to do about the Citadel. The resources simply weren't there to rebuild at this point, not when so many planets needed basic infrastructure. Eventually a decision would have to be made, repair or destroy. Shepard was beginning to like the idea of a fresh start. Let the races come together and build their own space station, based on their own designs and technology, not the Prothean's.
James called Ashley over then, leaving Shepard alone on the picnic table. For a few minutes, she simply watched her crew interact, seeing how the months had changed them. Perhaps it was just the alcohol, but everyone seemed so close. Barriers had come down between the crew. She saw no difference between enlisted or officer. Even her most reserved squad members, Javik and Liara were talking to Fitch and Traynor respectively.
The four months of being stranded caused any walls between her crew to crumble.
It was a shame they'd have to be separated after this. When discussing the logistics of her returned crew with the Alliance, Shepard insisted that her crew be given a week of shore leave. The majority of them had familes to find and plans to make. Once back, Shepard would have to work to find new assignments for her crew. She hated the thought of breaking them up, but until the relays were back up, the Normandy was grounded. Tentatively, the Alliance planned on putting her in dry dock and getting her back up to shape.
After that? No one thought that far ahead.
"Shepard!" called a voice from the dance floor. "Dance with us!"
She debated for all of three seconds before standing up. Shepard knew she looked like an idiot when she danced, but she didn't care. Chugging the last of her beer, Shepard walked over to the other dancers.
"Captain on deck!" Cortez yelled, just like he had the night of her party in her apartment.
Shepard danced.
"You look foolish, commander, when you attempt to move in time with the music," Javik said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"True," Shepard admitted with a laugh. "But it does raise morale. Especially mine."
Let them laugh, Shepard thought with a smile as she continued to dance. She raised her arms over her head, trying and failing to stay in time with the beat. They were alive. If that wasn't worth a bit of laughter and dancing, she didn't know what was.
"You sure, Lola? I'll walk you over there," James said, his arm around Ashley's shoulders.
"I'm sure, Vega. There are lots of patrols out," Shepard said. "Besides, it's a beautiful night for a walk."
"Commander Shepard, leaving before the party is over," Liara said with a smile, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now I've seen everything."
"Guys, I'm going to go see my…" Shepard trailed off, realizing she was about to say husband. Over the past month, since the word widow had scalded her ears, Shepard occasionally let herself indulge in daydreams, thinking herself Garrus' wife. The thought had kept her darker moments at bay. She'd have to stop that. At least until they had a chance to figure out the future. "My Garrus," she finished. She pointed at James jokingly. "Don't begrudge me my Garrus."
James threw off a crisp salute. "Yes, ma'am. Go see your Garrus, Lola."
Shepard simply smiled and gave her crew one last wave. They all cheered as she walked out of the picnic area. Shepard buttoned up her coat and put her hands in her pocket. She meant was she said, looking up at the sky. It was an absolutely beautiful night.
She made good time to the turian camp. The turian and krogan guarding the gates waved her in without checking her ID, like normal. It was really happening. The informal turian and krogan alliance officially began a week ago. The asari and salarians were on the record saying that they were absolutely insane. Shepard couldn't help thinking that if it worked, both races would wish they thought of it first. Hell, if it worked, Shepard would be annoyed that she didn't think of it first. Victus was a smart man. Palaven was lucky to have him as Primarch.
The camp seemed different at night. Shepard had only been here during the daylight hours before. There were row after row of tents. A few prefabs were in the start of the camp, were the Primarch lived and worked. She was pleased to see that there were guards outside of Victus' prefab; the Council must have warned the other leaders about Major Efron being on the loose.
Even at night there were turians working, sorting rations and food donations from the quarian live ships. Victus said he was fairly confident the turians on Earth would have enough to eat until the relays were fixed. But if the repairs took longer than anticipated, there could be issues. They would wait for another month before deciding if contingency plans were needed. Though after seeing what Garrus and Tali went through, Shepard thought it might be smarter to start planning now. Just in case.
The field hospital was a quick walk once inside the camp. There were no habitable buildings near the turian camp, so they set up a series of large tents to house their wounded. Shepard imagined it looked very close to what a battlefield hospital looked like hundreds of years ago.
She stepped inside the main tent and realized she had absolutely no idea how to get to Garrus' hospital bed. There were rows of large panels of fabric separating the various beds. Not wanting to disturb any of the patients, Shepard quietly asked for directions from an aide.
The aide led her through a series of hallways and into a different tent altogether. They stopped in front of a cubicle with two serious looking guards standing side by side. Garrus must be closer to the Primarch's seat than they realized if Victus felt the need to assign two guards.
"May I go in there?" Shepard asked the guard softly.
"Sure thing," the guard said.
Shepard nodded briskly. She pushed the fabric out of the way to enter the makeshift hospital room. Then quickly turned around and pulled the fabric taunt together, to give them the illusion of privacy.
Taking a step towards the bed, Shepard realized that Garrus was on his side, sleeping. He made those little noises, almost like purrs, which were the turian equivalent to a human snore. She had always teased him about those sounds. But now? She could listen to them all night.
There was a nearby chair, and Shepard sat down. Shepard looked at Garrus, his eyes shut, taking deep breaths. He wasn't wearing his visor; sleep being just about the only reason he took it off.
Shepard pulled the chair closer to the bed, so she was right next to him. His gloveless hand was right there, and Shepard had to fight the urge to wrap her fingers around his and feel the soft hide of his palm against her cheek. She put her hands under her thighs to control the urge to simply touch him. For now, Shepard would let herself be content simply looking at him. Waking him up would be selfish; she knew he needed the rest.
The look of peace on his face was addicting. And right now was the closest he's been to having a sense of peace. They had found each other again after four months. But unlike reuniting on Menae, when they were both unsure of the other's feelings, this time there was no doubt. She knew he couldn't possibly been briefed on the entire state of the galaxy in one evening. The old saying ignorance was bliss certainly applied in this case. She hated to think tomorrow he'd start to learn their new reality and she might not see this look on his face again for a long, long time.
She stifled a yawn and realized just how exhausted she really was. Emotionally, it had been a tiring day, between the Council meeting, reuniting the Garrus and the Normandy, not to mention the impromptu party. That last beer had been a mistake.
And it was a long walk back to her prefab…
Scooting the chair just a little bit closer to the bed, Shepard rested her arms on the mattress, being careful not to disturb Garrus. With one last glance at his face, Shepard lay her head on her arms and closed her eyes.
Talons caressing her cheek ended her slumber. "Garrus?" she said groggily. "What time is it?"
"Midnightish," he told her, moving his talons from her cheek to grip her hand. The look on his face was intense, as if he was afraid he'd blink and she'd disappear. She understood the feeling. "How long have you been here?"
"Twenty-two hundred hours, maybe?" Shepard said, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. Knowing they were alone in the cubicle, she slipped her hand underneath his mandible. Garrus leaned into the gesture at once. "I just wanted to say good-night."
He patted the space next to him. "Bet we could both fit," he said. His voice was steady, but Shepard didn't miss the slight plead in his sub-vocals.
Shepard bit her lower lip and looked over her shoulder, thinking of the guards behind the thin curtain. Not like they would even really kiss when there was potentially an audience. But simply sleeping in the same bed wouldn't hurt anyone. She grinned and reached down to take off her boots.
Garrus took one of his pillows and placed it over on 'her' side of the hospital bed then folded the other in half for himself. After taking off her coat, Shepard carefully lowered herself into the bed, her back facing Garrus. Immediately Garrus drew her close, so their bodies were flush. As he slid his arm around her waist, Shepard felt her body truly relax for the first time since she learned of the Normandy's disappearance. She had missed him so damn much.
"Comfortable?" Garrus asked, touching the back of her neck with his mouth plates. She nodded, shivering as Garrus untucked her uniform and placed his palm onto her belly, then covering his hand with the shirt.
"Very," Shepard said, almost in a whisper. She quickly set the alarm on her omni-tool for far too early in the morning. "You?"
"I am the embodiment of comfort right now, Shepard," Garrus said lazily. She smiled, picturing the way Garrus' eyelids were probably fluttering, the way they did when he was about to fall asleep but was fighting against slumber.
"Good night, Garrus," Shepard said, slipping her hand under her shirt so it rested on top of Garrus'.
"Good night, Shepard," he said, kissing the back of her neck again.
And there was no doubt in Shepard's mind that it was. Even with so much to be decided and worried about, Shepard knew they'd get through it. They always did.
Author's Note: Many thanks to theherocomplex for her beta work!
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